As he did so he uttered an exclamation of astonishment.
There lay the escaped convict, his face deadly pale, his eyes half shut, and his hands clenched.
Mr. Jarvis shook him.
‘Here, master, this won’t do. Come, you must get out of this. We can’t have no gaol-birds here.’
The man opened his eyes.
‘Oh, sir, for God’s sake help me!’ he exclaimed. ‘Don’t give me up!—don’t give me up!’
‘I don’t want to give you up; but I can’t harbour ye, ye know—it’s a crime.’
‘Let me lie here, then, till I can walk!’ exclaimed the man. ‘In dodging behind the hedges I slipped and twisted my ankle. I managed to crawl into the waggon and hide among these things, or I should have been caught.’
‘And I’ve been and turned the officers back, and declared as I hadn’t seen ye!’ exclaimed Mr. Jarvis, looking very uncomfortable.
‘Hear me!’ exclaimed the man, raising himself on his arm with difficulty, for the pain from his twisted ankle was excruciating. ‘Hear my story, and then do with me as you will. I’m an escaped convict, but I am innocent of the crime I was condemned for. My time had nearly expired—in a few weeks more I should have been out on a ticket of leave. Unfortunately I incurred the hatred of one of the warders. I refused to help him in a dishonest act. He never forgave me. Twice he found tobacco in my cell. He put it there! For the second offence I lost all my privileges. I was not allowed to write to my wife or to hear from her for nine months, and I lost my chance of a ticket.’